


White Noise

by chogiwonderful_you



Series: 2167 [2]
Category: EXO (Band), Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Mass Effect, Character Study, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Romance, M/M, PTSD, referenced past sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 08:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chogiwonderful_you/pseuds/chogiwonderful_you
Summary: Jongdae has a team, a home, and Yifan. But the past always has a way of catching up with him.





	White Noise

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a direct continuation of [2167](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849774/chapters/47005540) and focuses on the relationship between Yifan and Jongdae. It bridges the gap time-wise between 2167 and SD-0, the sequel I'm currently working on, but will not be necessary to understand either. I'm not sure how many people will be interested in this, but I liked the idea of exploring these two characters further. 
> 
> For anyone who read 2167 and is interested in the sequel please keep an eye out at the end of 2019/beginning of 2020.

It had barely been three days since Jongdae had been discharged from the med bay when Yifan found him waiting for him in his quarters. It wasn’t totally surprising; they’d both been too busy to do much more than say good night to each other in the past few days - Yifan’s days filled with reports and debriefs while Jongdae was being interviewed by countless government agents about his capabilities and potential place on Yifan’s team. Yifan considered that a foregone conclusion, but there were certainly some who weren’t happy with the idea of another human, and a biotic at that, joining an elite Special Forces unit. Jongdae, for his part, was holding up admirably under the scrutiny.

So while he wasn’t surprised that Jongdae might want to see him, he was a bit taken aback to see him there. Yifan may have had an open door policy, but none of the crew ever took advantage of it, preferring to catch him in the mess, or use the intercom if it couldn’t wait.

Jongdae was perched on the very edge of the bed, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be there. He jumped up immediately when he saw Yifan walk through the door. And then, before Yifan could say anything, Jongdae was crossing the room and dropping to his knees.

Jongdae’s hands were reaching for the drawstring of Yifan’s pants, and Yifan made a little grunt of protest, placing his hand over Jongdae’s smaller one. He couldn’t help but think of Jongdae making the same offer a week ago when he thought his life was on the line. Obviously this was very different, but…

There was something between them now. Yifan was astonished by how much he had come to care for Jongdae in such a short amount of time. Jongdae must have felt the same, given that he’d nearly died trying to save him.

But it had only been a few days. And they hadn’t even kissed yet. Hadn’t done anything physical besides Jongdae cuddling against Yifan on the observation deck’s couch. It had seemed too soon for anything else. They were both still recovering from their injuries. There were a dozen good reasons to say no.

Jongdae was insistent, though, his hands loosening the drawstring even as Yifan’s rested on top of them. Yifan could have easily stopped him, but Jongdae was offering, and Yifan was ashamed to admit how badly he wanted it. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. And this? This was something he had only dreamed of. He had seen it before in some of the vids soldiers would pass around, but turian teeth were too sharp for it to ever have been a possibility. The sight of Jongdae looking up at him through his lashes, about to give him something out of his wildest fantasies, he couldn’t bring himself to resist.

Yifan’s pants fell from his hips and landed around his ankles. He relaxed and let his cock slide free from its sheathe. He wasn’t hard yet, but he was quickly getting there.

He expected Jongdae to hesitate for a moment. He knew he had never been with a turian before, and maybe he might have found the whole thing weird or intimidating. But Jongdae just ducked forward and sucked the head of Yifan’s cock into his mouth. Yifan couldn’t hold back a groan. Jongdae’s mouth was hot and so wet, and Yifan had never felt anything so incredible.

“Jongdae,” he murmured, and he threaded his fingers into Jongdae’s hair without even realizing he was doing it.

It was very clear that Jongdae was skilled at this, but Yifan tried hard not to think about how he got his experience. Yifan was fairly average for a turian, but he knew that turians’ cocks were bigger than humans’ overall, yet Jongdae had no trouble taking nearly all of him in. His cock nudged against the back of Jongdae’s throat and it was all he could do not to thrust in further.

He wanted to tell Jongdae how well he was doing, how beautiful he looked with his dark hair falling across his eyes and his lips stretched wide, but the words wouldn’t come out. He gently stroked Jongdae’s head and whispered his name again and hoped that would be enough, that he would understand how grateful he was.

Yifan tried to pull back when he was about to come, but Jongdae wouldn’t let him. He sucked him in as far as he could take him, and Yifan pulsed down his throat with a deep, rumbling moan.

He reached down and all but hauled Jongdae to his feet, eager to return the favor. He wanted to know what kinds of sounds he’d make, the look on his face as he writhed in pleasure. Yifan would make it so good for him.

But when he pulled Jongdae close and reached between his legs, Jongdae flinched. Yifan dropped his hands, but it hadn’t escaped his notice that Jongdae was soft. Something turned over in his stomach, and he hoped he was just imagining how fake Jongdae’s smile looked.

Jongdae let out a small sound that could have been a laugh if it didn’t sound so desperate. “It’s cool. I gotta go anyways.” His voice was rough and shaky. He slipped past Yifan and out the door before Yifan had the chance to even think about stopping him.

Yifan pulled his pants up, suddenly ashamed by his nakedness. Maybe he was blowing it out of proportion. Just because Jongdae didn’t want him to touch him, it didn’t mean… Except he didn’t know what it could mean, not with Jongdae, and he couldn’t shake the look in Jongdae’s eyes, the way they’d flitted toward the door, like he’d felt trapped. Yifan should have said no. He wanted to throw up.

He sunk down on his bed and stared at the wall.

Yifan didn’t need to use the surveillance feed to know that Jongdae was holed up on the observation deck. He had pretty much moved in there. Yifan had toyed with the idea of asking him if he wanted to sleep in his room - they were still on different schedules, so it wasn’t like they’d be sharing a bed exactly - but he had been worried that it would be too forward. It seemed even more foolish now; after this afternoon, he had no clue where they stood.

He had thought about going after Jongdae after he’d left, but he’d wanted to give Jongdae his space. Besides, he wasn’t sure what he would even say, whether Jongdae would want to talk to him. Maybe he wouldn’t even want to now. Still, it seemed wrong to hide from him, even unintentionally. He’d go if Jongdae told him to.

He watched as the tea steeped. It was clearly ready, but he made no move to pick up the cups. He sighed and ran his hand over his fringe. He’d faced countless enemies, impossible odds, certain death even, but just talking to Jongdae seemed as daunting as any of it.

He was so, so selfish because the one thing he wanted was for Jongdae to smile at him, tell him everything was fine. That this afternoon had been something he’d enjoyed. Yifan couldn’t bear the thought of being another name on the list of men who’d used Jongdae.

All he could do was apologize. He’d beg Jongdae’s forgiveness if it came to that. Jongdae might want to end this, and Yifan would accept it. Better that than hurt him.

“Hey,” Jongdae said, a little shy, as Yifan stepped onto the observation deck. He didn’t quite meet Yifan’s eyes as he took his mug from him.

Yifan wanted to sit on the couch with Jongdae and pull him close, but he was wary of touching him now, so he sat down in the chair on the other side of the end table. He looked over at Jongdae, who was staring resolutely at his tea. Yifan set his cup on the table; he didn’t think he had the stomach to drink it.

“About this afternoon…” he started, but he knew right away it was wrong. He really should have thought more about this.

“Do we have to?” Jongdae asked quietly. He sounded resigned and he still wouldn’t look up.

“I think we should,” Yifan said, but then fell silent. He wished Jongdae would look at him, give him any indication what was going on his head.

Jongdae nodded slightly and curled up a bit tighter under his blanket on the couch. Yifan was struck once again by how small he was.

It was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Jongdae taking little sips of his tea. “Are you mad at me?” he asked suddenly. The words came out in a rush, and he clenched his jaw hard afterwards, like he regretted asking at all.

“What? No, I - I wanted to - I shouldn’t have just-” Yifan took a deep breath, trying to get ahold of himself. Why was this so damn hard? “I took advantage of you, and I’m so sorry about that. I understand if you…” he trailed off, not wanting to assume any more of what Jongdae was feeling. He’d done enough of that already.

Jongdae scoffed, like Yifan was being ridiculous. “I mean, I offered.” His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it. He was trying to get Yifan to drop it, but Yifan couldn’t. He needed to make Jongdae understand.

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have known better.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, Yifan,” Jongdae practically snarled back. His hands trembled where they held the cup and a drop of tea sloshed over the side onto the blanket.

“No, of course not. I didn’t mean-” Jongdae obviously wasn’t a child, probably hadn’t ever had the chance to actually be one. He’d had to grow up too fast. The last thing Yifan wanted to do was infantilize him, but even now, he wanted to go to him, to wrap him up and tell him they didn’t need to talk about it anymore. Anything to stop his hands from shaking. But it was still worse to think of Jongdae seeking him out again, offering something he might not want to give. “You know you don’t have to do any of that with me, right?”

Jongdae shrugged. “Seems like you liked it okay.”

“Yes,” Yifan admitted, “but you didn’t.”

Jongdae’s silence was damning, and Yifan felt his stomach drop.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jongdae said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It is to me.”

“I can try harder. I’ll let you - I mean, you can do what you want, and I’ll try-” Jongdae’s breathing was speeding up as the words tumbled out of him. He was trying to rein it in, but the panic was bubbling just under the surface.

“Jongdae,” Yifan tried to soothe him. He knelt down in front of Jongdae and gently prised the cup from his tight grip and put it on the end table. He took both of Jongdae’s hands in his own. “Jongdae, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” The endearment slipped out without Yifan meaning it to. He hoped it wouldn’t upset Jongdae more.

Jongdae took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. His mouth moved in a silent countdown as Yifan massaged his hands. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes. Yifan couldn’t help but be proud of him.

“I’m fucking it all up already,” Jongdae said, looking down at their joined hands. “It’s just-” He sighed. “You’re my boyfriend, or whatever, and I should… I mean, that’s what I’m supposed to - I’m already enough to deal with.”

Yifan’s heart broke for him. “You’re not.” He lifted one of Jongdae’s hands and kissed it softly. “I really don’t expect anything from you.”

“It’s just… I don’t want you to get tired of waiting.”

“I won’t.” It sounded like a platitude, but Yifan truly meant it. Maybe if he had been younger, it would have been different, but now, it was enough having someone he could care for. And as much as he would have liked to explore a physical relationship with Jongdae, he didn’t need it.

Jongdae looked up at Yifan, eyes searching like he didn’t quite trust his words. Yifan wished he knew what to say to convince him. More than anything he wished he could erase everything in his past that made him believe he wasn’t worth even the smallest consideration.

Jongdae looked past Yifan at the stars in the observation deck’s window. “Okay,” he said, much more to himself than to Yifan.

Yifan stayed where he was on the floor, afraid that moving would upset the fragile calm he’d been able to carve out.

“Aren’t you kinda old to be sitting on the floor?” Jongdae was smirking, teasing him. Yifan took it as an overture. Besides, he wasn’t wrong; his knees were certainly protesting. He let go of Jongdae’s hands to push himself up, but as soon as he was standing, Jongdae’s hand shot out to grab his wrist, seemingly desperate for the connection. “Wait. You’ll, uh, will you stay? Just for a little bit? I know you’re probably busy, but…”

Yifan didn’t really know how he had wound up here. He’d thought Jongdae wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with him, and now he was chewing on his bottom lip, looking very worried that Yifan might leave him. But he wouldn’t let Jongdae down, not now, and not ever again if he could help it. “Of course.”

He hesitated for just a second before sitting down on the other side of the couch and lifting up his arm so Jongdae could tuck himself into his side. Jongdae made an unconscious hum of contentment as he curled in closer, and Yifan couldn’t believe how gone he was on him already.

It was Yixing who came up with the idea to throw Jongdae a birthday party. To give a bit of normalcy to someone who’d never had it, he’d reasoned. YIfan could have kicked himself for not thinking of it first.

They were finishing up a fairly low stakes escort run, and they’d have at least a day or two to relax and resupply once they’d reached their destination. It wouldn’t be anything fancy, but Minseok was planning on making a couple of cakes, and Luhan had made an order for more alcohol than Yifan could even imagine drinking.

Jongdae was initially wary. He didn’t seem to like people making a fuss over him. But he told Yifan that maybe the crew could use the morale boost, so he’d agreed. No matter what he’d said, Yifan could tell that he was actually excited about the whole thing. He wouldn’t let it show on his face, but he couldn’t stop mentioning a discussion he’d had with Minseok about cake flavors or that Luhan was trying to get his hands on balloons.

Jongdae had decided that it would be his nineteenth birthday, since Yixing’s scans hadn’t been entirely clear. Sometimes, Yifan thought there was something wrong with him for wanting to be with someone so young. He knew there was something wrong with him because he liked it, maybe even preferred it. Jongdae was independent, and brave, and intelligent, but at the same time, he needed Yifan, needed him in a way Aurelia never had. He was worried that meant that he didn’t view Jongdae as capable, as an equal, but he couldn’t help how badly he wanted to take care of him. And even though he would try to hide it, it seemed like, maybe, Jongdae liked being taken care of. He’d been on his own for so long, so maybe it was nice to have someone looking after him for a change. At least, Yifan hoped so.

The party was in full swing when Yifan pulled Jongdae aside. His cheeks were flushed from the shot the rest of the crew had insisted he’d taken, and there was a little fleck of chocolate icing on the corner of his mouth. Without stopping to think about it, Yifan reached out to wipe it away with his thumb, and Jongdae giggled. It was the happiest Yifan had ever seen him and he was more than a little enchanted.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to get you anything,” Yifan apologized and then continued on before Jongdae could interrupt him, “But I do have something you might want to see.” The message from the Hierarchy had just come in an hour ago, but Yifan thought Jongdae might appreciate hearing the news first on his own. Yifan opened his omni-tool display and forwarded the message to Jongdae and nodded at him to open it.

It only took a moment for Jongdae to read through everything completely before he looked up at Yifan, eyes bright and smile even wider. “So I’m really on the team, then.” It had been over a month of waiting and seemingly endless trial runs, but, ultimately, Yifan’s request had been approved. Frankly, he was just as relieved as Jongdae was, maybe even more so. The ship was Jongdae’s first real home, and Yifan didn’t know what he’d do if he had to tell Jongdae to leave it.

With all the bravado of the slightly tipsy, Jongdae stretched up and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Yifan’s lips. “I’m gonna go tell them,” he said, before heading back to sit down at the mess hall table.

And if Yifan touched his fingers to his lips afterwards? Well, no one was paying attention to him anyways.

There was a knock at Yifan’s door, and it slid open before he could get out of bed to answer it. Jongdae was standing in the entrance, barefoot, in his black hoodie and sweatpants, hair looking a little rumpled. He was hesitating, like he thought Yifan might not let him in.

The party had still been going when Yifan begged off hours ago. Unfortunately, as uneventful as their mission had been, he’d still had reports to file that couldn’t wait. He was finalizing his draft still and hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.

He patted the space next to him on the bed, but then worried that that might have been too presumptuous. But Jongdae came and hopped up on the bed anyways, leaning against Yifan and resting his head on his shoulder. Yifan put his arm around him, absently stroking Jongdae’s arm as he looked over his report, and Jongdae snuggled in closer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered into Yifan’s neck. 

Yifan felt a pang of guilt; it was the first night in the past month that he hadn’t sat with Jongdae on the observation deck until he fell asleep. Lately, Jongdae had taken to falling asleep on him, forcing Yifan to take great pains to extricate himself without waking him. He didn’t mind, though. Jongdae had had so few opportunities to be close to someone in his life, it made sense that he was craving it now.

“You’re welcome to sleep here,” Yifan offered, trying to sound nonchalant about it. He really didn’t want to put pressure on Jongdae to do something he wasn’t comfortable with. But he figured it wouldn’t be that much different from what they’d already been doing.

“You trying to get me into bed?” Jongdae asked playfully, but Yifan could sense the intent behind it. It wasn’t just idle flirtation.

“That’s not what I meant,” Yifan replied, placing his tablet down so he could focus his full attention on Jongdae. This was still a touchy subject between them, and Yifan wanted to make sure he did this right.

“Could be.” Jongdae moved back so he was kneeling on the bed next to Yifan. His hair was a bit too long and it hung in his eyes. Yifan liked it. He brushed a few strands away from Jongdae’s face as he thought about how best to answer.

“Jongdae, we’ve talked about this.”

Jongdae’s hand moved to the zipper of his hoodie and slowly pulled it down, revealing the barest sliver of his chest and taut stomach. He smirked when he caught Yifan’s eyes flick down to look even though Yifan was trying to keep them on Jongdae’s face. “But what if I want it, too.”

Yifan desperately wanted to believe him. He wanted to reach out and touch him, see if his skin was as soft as it looked. Jongdae shifted, and the hoodie opened wider, showing the edge of his nipple. Yifan had heard those were sensitive in humans. He wondered if Jongdae’s were, too.

It was a bad idea. He needed to look away, clear his head. “You’ve been drinking.” There. That was a very good reason to put a stop to this.

“Hours ago.”

“Still…” Because they shouldn’t. Because they’d only kissed a handful of times. Because Yifan wanted Jongdae so much it scared him a little. At the same time, it wasn’t for Yifan to decide if he was ready.

“You sure?” Yifan asked, watching carefully for Jongdae’s reaction. He wasn’t sure he could continue if Jongdae were flippant about this.

But Jongdae didn’t try to brush him off. He didn’t make a joke out of it, and he didn’t push for more. He looked Yifan in the eye and held his gaze, even though Yifan knew it was something Jongdae hated doing. “It’s not ‘cause I think I have to,” Jongdae said, each word spoken deliberately, like it was costing him something to admit it, “I want to. For me.”

Yifan understood and he nodded. Jongdae stayed where he was for a moment, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves; it was clear he didn’t quite know what to do next. Yifan didn’t want to offer any suggestions in fear of pushing Jongdae into trying to please him rather than do what he wanted for himself.

Jongdae seemed to make up his mind and moved to lay on his back next to Yifan. His hoodie had slipped fully open, and he pulled it shut over his body but he didn’t zip it up. He was nervous, that much was obvious. He reached up and grabbed the front of Yifan’s shirt in a grip that was maybe too tight and pulled. Yifan allowed himself to be led, rolling over on his side, and then, at Jongdae’s insistence, looming above him, covering his body with his own.

Yifan wanted to take his time looking - Jongdae was so beautiful right now - but he didn’t want to make Jongdae feel even more self-conscious. He lowered himself down so that he could kiss Jongdae. Jongdae clearly didn’t have much experience with kissing - he held his mouth too firm, his lips pressed tightly together - but Yifan didn’t mind. He looked forward to teaching him.

As he continued kissing Jongdae, he felt him begin to relax. His lips parted slightly and he let out a shaky sigh. His hands were still resting next to him on the bed; he hadn’t made any effort to touch Yifan. Maybe he just needed the right encouragement.

“Can I try something?” Yifan asked against Jongdae’s lips.

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, a bit breathlessly.

Yifan moved slowly, so as not to startle him, and pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth and then his jaw. He slid a hand under Jongdae’s sweatshirt, feeling the smooth skin there. He spread his fingers and traced them lightly over Jongdae’s stomach and waist, and Jongdae’s breath hitched. Yifan thought he could touch him all night if Jongdae let him. He shifted down and kissed Jongdae’s neck right below his ear. One of Jongdae’s hands came up to rest against Yifan’s chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt once again. He was still so tense. His hand was shaking where it held on to Yifan.

“Jongdae?” Yifan asked. He sat up more so that he could look at Jongdae’s face and saw that his eyes were screwed shut. Yifan felt his throat tighten. He’d pushed Jongdae too far too fast.

“I’m fine,” Jongdae said hurriedly. “It’s okay. You can-” His chest heaved under Yifan’s hand, and Yifan quickly withdrew it. As though it was a weight that had just been lifted, Jongdae let go of Yifan and pushed himself back so he could sit up, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Fuck. Fuck!” He took in a gasping breath while Yifan looked on, wishing he knew how to comfort him but terrified of getting it wrong. He moved back toward the far edge of the bed, hoping Jongdae would feel less trapped if there were space between them.

“‘m sorry,” Jongdae said, hands still covering his eyes. “I…”

Yifan hated hearing Jongdae apologize. He should never have to apologize for that. “It’s okay,” he said lamely, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“It’s really fucking not.” When Jongdae lowered his hands, Yifan could see that his eyes were red-rimmed and teary. He laughed and it sounded a bit hysterical. “I used to - I fucked anyone who’d give me credits. Like it was nothing. You don’t even know, Yifan. And I hated it, but it’s done, y’know? But now that I want to, I can’t get it out of my head. And it’s not fucking fair. It’s like they’re still taking from me, and I…” He wiped at his eyes before any tears could spill. His anger seemed to fade to helplessness. “I’m so fucked up.”

Yifan felt helpless, too. He felt frozen at the foot of the bed, second-guessing his instincts because he knew he couldn’t fix this for Jongdae. He couldn’t tell him it would be alright because he didn’t know if it ever would be, and he owed Jongdae the truth. “Maybe I’m not the right person to talk with you about this.”

Jongdae’s face closed off immediately, and Yifan knew he had made a mistake. “Yeah, no, I get it.” Jongdae made to get off the bed, but Yifan couldn’t just let him go like that, thinking that Yifan didn’t want him anymore.

He placed a hand on Jongdae’s ankle, and Jongdae let himself be held in place. “That’s not what I - I’m always gonna be here for you, Jongdae. I just meant - There are people, with training, and I don’t know how to help you, but maybe they would.”

Jongdae’s face was still impassive. “You mean like a therapist? Yeah, I don’t know about that. You know I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know. And it’s up to you,” Yifan said, but he was pretty sure he was fighting a losing battle. “Just - maybe think about it?”

“Okay,” Jongdae agreed, but his tone made it clear that the discussion was over.

Yifan expected him to get up and leave, but Jongdae surprised him by lifting up the edge of the covers and crawling under them. When he saw Yifan watching him, he paused. “I can still sleep here, right?”

“Of course,” Yifan said quickly. The last thing he wanted was for Jongdae to think he wasn’t welcome. Yifan got up and walked over to his side of the bed, picking up his tablet as he went. He still had that report to proofread.

Jongdae pretended to fall asleep easily, but it was a long time before his breathing evened out.

Therapy was weird, and Jongdae was pretty sure he hated it. Dr. T’Vora was okay, but Jongdae didn’t see the point of it. It wasn’t like dragging up the past would make it go away.

When he’d agreed to talk to someone, he’d told Yifan he wouldn’t talk about the Facility. Jongdae said it was because he didn’t remember, which was partially true, but it was mostly because he just didn’t want to. That was his own fucked up shit to deal with, and it wasn’t affecting anyone like the sex stuff was.

Rape stuff. Dr. T’Vora had hit that point pretty hard. Asked him to say it once. Jongdae had, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. Sehun had been raped, pimped out when he was ten by his own uncle. He didn’t have a choice. Jongdae knew what he was getting himself into, knew it was what he had to do to get by. Just ‘cause he’d been a kid, it didn’t mean he was a victim of something. Save that for people who actually deserved it.

The other thing was that Dr. T’Vora kept asking him what he wanted and never seemed satisfied with his answers. What he wanted was to be less of a fuck-up, but apparently that didn’t cut it and got him a lecture on “speaking kindly to himself”. She said that if his goal was sexual intimacy that he needed to make sure he was doing it for himself and not because he thought it would make Yifan happy. Jongdae knew that, obviously, but in reality, the only thing holding him back was the guilt in Yifan’s eyes when he realized Jongdae hadn’t enjoyed blowing him. Jongdae wasn’t a good enough actor to hide that fact. He kind of wished he was.

Dr. T’Vora had asked that he and Yifan refrain from sex for the time being, which wasn’t a problem becuase Yifan was hesitant to even kiss Jongdae these days. The weirdest thing she asked was whether Jongdae felt attracted to Yifan, or really anyone at all. Jongdae had wanted to dismiss the question out of hand, but it gave him pause. He must have waited too long to answer because then she was telling him how it was perfectly normal to feel that way, that many survivors did and it wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

She gave him homework, which Jongdae agreed to do even though it sounded stupid. She mostly just wanted him to note any time he felt arousal, to get an idea if it was something he experienced and to learn a bit more about what he liked. She even encouraged him to explore his own body if he felt up to it, which was incredibly awkward, but Jongdae had nodded all the same.

He might have brushed it off except that he really did want to make progress. Mostly for Yifan, even though he wasn’t supposed to do it for him. But it felt good, in a way, not to have this swirling mass of fear and anger in his brain all the time. He wondered how long it would last.

Jongdae was now hyperaware every time he and Yifan interacted. It was confusing because he didn’t know what he was looking for. He could tell when people were attractive in an abstract way. It was obvious, for example, that Minseok was one of the best-looking people he’d ever met. Even Jongdae himself wasn’t too hideous now that he wasn’t on the run and was eating and sleeping regularly. With Yifan it was harder to tell - turian features were so alien - but Jongdae found that he liked looking at him. He was striking if nothing else. Yifan made him feel warm, safe, but he didn’t know if that was attraction. It didn’t seem like it.

So he waited, and he observed. Getting in touch with his feelings was exactly as unpleasant as he thought it would be, but he’d do it if it meant he could have this, have Yifan.

He noticed he liked Yifan’s voice, how deep it was, the way it seemed to vibrate through him when he was leaned up against him. It made him shiver and he didn’t know why. He liked that Yifan was strong - much stronger than he was - that he could lift him easily when they were sparring. Kissing Yifan was always nice, but sometimes Yifan would let himself go, kiss Jongdae a little deeper, and Jongde would feel dazed. When Yifan inevitably pulled back, Jongdae would be disappointed, but he didn’t know how to ask for more.

And those all seemed like steps in the right direction. At least Dr. T’Vora thought so. Jongdae didn’t know if it was enough, though. If all these little things would add up to wanting him.

Yifan seemed to be testing the waters, touching Jongdae more and more. It was all very innocent, but whenever they were in the same room, Yifan found a reason to reach out to him. He liked to place his hand on the back of Jongdae’s neck and that made Jongdae’s heart pound. He couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, but at the same time, it didn’t cross his mind to ask Yifan to stop.

So it wasn’t uncommon for Jongdae to find himself at dinner in the mess with Yifan’s hand warm and comforting on his thigh. Except that, this time, he couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like if Yifan moved his hand higher and cupped him through his pants, slipped under his waistband and…

He nearly choked on his food, feeling hot all over. The stray thought hit him like a punch, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or run off to vidcall Dr.T’Vora. Because as hopeful as he’d been, he’d never really expected to feel anything like this, this want slowly building in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a fuck-up as he’d thought.

He managed to get through dinner with only a questioning glance from Minseok and all but ran back to Yifan’s quarters. For once, he was grateful that Yifan hadn’t gotten around to changing the schedules so that the two of them would have the same time off. He didn’t want to be interrupted.

He felt stupid as hell because he didn’t have the first clue how to do this. He’d never actually jerked off before. He’d never even wanted to. His cock had always seemed like it wasn’t part of his body, like it belonged to someone else entirely. Everything about it had been perfunctory. He’d hated it, too. Hated that he’d get hard sometimes while he was working, even though he didn’t want to.

But he was going to change that. Because even if it never happened again, in that moment he desperately wanted Yifan to touch him.

He kicked off his shoes, sweatpants, and underwear and laid down on his side of the bed. It was weird and a little nerve-wracking to be exposed like this, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade him. Maybe he was putting too much pressure on himself, but this felt important.

He closed his eyes and thought back to Yifan’s hand on his thigh, how warm it had been. How warm would it feel wrapped around his cock? He bet it would feel amazing.

Jongdae felt himself flush and he squirmed a little as he felt his cock start to swell. His hands were clenched at his sides and he was worried that if he touched himself, it would be too real, too much to continue.

Think about Yifan, he told himself. He imagined sitting back against Yifan’s chest, in between his spread legs. Yifan would stroke him so gently that Jongdae would barely be able to stand it. His hand was so big that it would cover Jongdae’s entire cock. Yifan would be hard as well and Jongdae would lean back and feel it press into his back. Yifan would be murmuring in his ear, telling him all sorts of things that would make Jongdae blush and moan, even if Jongdae couldn’t quite think of what they might be right now.

His hand was on his cock before he could even think about it. And it felt so good that there was no way he was planning to stop. He fucked up into his fist, a bit uncoordinated and frantic, terrified that if he slowed down, he might lose this, and he just couldn’t. In just a few thrusts, he was coming with a surprised gasp because nothing had ever felt like this before. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years. He wanted to do it again and again until his limbs gave out. He wanted to tell Yifan that he wasn’t broken, and maybe, in the not-so-distant future, he wanted to show him. That thought sent a pulse of heat through him.

He wasn’t ready for that just yet. He wasn’t sure if he was even ready to tell Yifan. A part of him wanted to keep this for himself for awhile, to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. He didn’t want to analyze it; he just wanted to feel.

And, in the shower, he touched himself again, just because he could.

The next time they sparred, Yifan didn’t hold back. Not that he did usually. But there was a particular ferocity he kept quietly restrained. Today, he let it out in full force. Jongdae couldn’t help but notice that this coincided with vidcalls with his father.

Jongdae didn’t mind, though. He was growing stronger with the practice, able to go for longer before the headaches set in. Even if they got bad sometimes, he hadn’t passed out since they’d rescued the ambassador. He thought that was progress.

Now that his biotics were improving, he and Yifan were almost evenly matched. Jongdae had raw power, but Yifan had much better instincts from years of training. It made it more fun. They didn’t keep track, but Jongdae had been winning his fair share of matches in the past few weeks. Yifan had told him he was proud of him, and Jongdae had blushed and felt his stomach do a funny little swoop. He couldn’t get the words out of his head for days after, and maybe they’d played a not-so-insignificant role in one of his furtive jerk-off sessions.

He’d told Yifan about those, in quite possibly the most awkward conversation he could ever imagine having. Yifan had merely said, “I see,” in a strained voice, and Jongdae hadn’t known what to say, or even wanted to say anything else, so that had been that.

Even at his most aggressive, Yifan never pinned him like he had the first time they’d sparred, preferring to trap his arms behind his back or to simply knock him down so many times that Jongdae couldn’t get back up. 

Jongdae had no such reservations, and that’s how he found himself straddling Yifan, pushing his wrists into the mat above his head with his biotics, panting open-mouthed with exertion, his hair plastered to his face with sweat. For a second, it seemed like Yifan wasn’t going to yield. There was a fire in his eyes like Jongdae had never seen. It sent a thrill up his spine. Jongdae didn’t know if he wanted to press down harder or let go entirely.

But then Yifan had smiled genially, as composed as ever. “Good match,” he had said, like he hadn’t just looked at Jongdae like he wanted to fuck him into the floor.

Jongdae climbed off of him in a daze. Yifan must have noticed he was acting strangely, but he didn’t remark on it. Jongdae gave some hasty excuse and ran for the shower.

He was fully hard before he’d even closed the bathroom door. He imagined that he had let Yifan go, that Yifan had flipped them over and taken him hard right there in the training room, and then he was coming so hard that he needed to grab the sink to stay upright.

It was when he was rinsing himself off in the shower that the panic set in. He slid down the wall and pulled his knees to his chest as he sat under the spray. He’d recently realized there was a separation between what he fantasized about and what he wanted in reality. That what turned him on one minute, terrified him the next. And this had been violent, out-of-control. He couldn’t. He wasn’t ready.

But Yifan didn’t expect him to be. It was Yifan, who was considerate almost to a fault. Yifan, who would be happy to let things drag on as they were indefinitely.

Maybe Jongdae didn’t want that, though. He wasn’t ready for much, but he was ready for something.

“I want to try making out,” Jongdae said, and then cringed because it sounded really stupid out loud.

Yifan was already in bed - he had finally fixed their schedules - looking at his tablet like he always was. At Jongdae’s word, he looked up sharply and then slowly placed the device on the nightstand, as though moving too fast would spook Jongdae and he’d call the whole thing off.

“I just mean - I really want to. And I promise I’ll tell you if I need to stop, or whatever. And I think it could be good for us, for me, you know?” He was babbling. Yifan’s face was carefully guarded and it looked like he wasn’t going to interrupt and save Jongdae from his embarrassment. “Sorry. This was stupid. I can just-”

“You’re sure it’s what you want?” Yifan tried to keep any hint of excitement from his voice.

Jongdae fought the urge to deflect, to say that he was making a big deal out of nothing, because he wasn’t. Yifan was just trying to be careful. “I’m sure,” he said.

He got up on his side of the bed and stayed there because his half-formed plan had only gotten him this far. He didn’t know how people did this. How would Yifan want to do it? Yifan was sitting back against the pillows, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to make the first move. Not for the first time, Jongdae wished he weren’t so noble. The last thing he wanted to do was admit how lost he was.

Yifan’s legs were spread a little, and in a move that was a lot braver than Jongdae felt, he crawled toward Yifan and swung one of his legs over one of Yifan’s. Yifan placed a steadying hand at the base of his spine, and Jongdae let himself lean forward onto Yifan’s chest. His nose was brushing the underside of Yifan’s jaw. Yifan nudged him to shift forward a bit and then their chests were pressed together. Yifan felt so solid. Jongdae shivered when Yifan swept the hair out of his eyes, his fingers tracing his ear, his jaw. Jongdae still had to tilt his head back to look him in the eye.

“Okay?” Yifan asked, more vibration than actual sound.

Jongdae kissed him.

Yifan kissed with the same self-assuredness he did everything else. He didn’t try to rush. He moved his mouth so slowly that at times it felt like they had stopped kissing entirely, that they were just breathing each other in. Jongdae felt intoxicated by it. One of Yifan’s hands was at the nape of Jongdae’s neck and the other rested on his hip, high enough that his fingers slipped under his shirt to brush against the bare skin there.

Jongdae felt Yifan’s tongue push against his lips and he parted them without hesitation. Even while licking into his mouth, Yifan didn’t pick up the pace. His thumb was rubbing maddening little circles on Jongdae’s hip. It was the sweetest torment Jongdae had ever experienced.

He knew he was getting hard and that Yifan must have felt it pressing against his thigh. He squirmed, feeling ashamed and trying to pull away, but Yifan’s hand kept him where he was, so all he managed to do was grind down on Yifan. It was such a small thing but it felt incredible. He sighed into Yifan’s mouth and did it again.

“Feel good, baby?” Yifan pulled back to ask him. Jongdae shuddered at the sound of his voice. Yifan only called him ‘baby’ when he wasn’t thinking about it, when his emotions were too high for him to filter it out. Jongdae hadn’t thought he would have wanted something like that, but he liked feeling small in Yifan’s arms.

He was working his hips more desperately now, giving up any attempt at kissing Yifan properly. He was slumped forward, moaning into Yifan’s chest. Yifan’s hand was stroking his side and came down to rest at the top of his ass.

“Can I…” Yifan started to ask, and Jongdae nodded against him before he even knew what it was. Whatever it was, he was sure he needed it. Yifan placed both of his hands on Jongdae’s hips and lifted him so he could straddle Yifan fully. He was hard too, and he used his hands to guide Jongdae’s hips, to encourage him to rut against him. Jongdae was letting out a little whine at the end of every breath. He balled his fists into Yifan’s shirt, trying to get more leverage. Yifan was all around him. It felt so good that it was all he could think about.

He whimpered because he was so close and he didn’t know what would happen when he got there. He wanted to enjoy this without worrying about what would come afterwards.

“I got you, baby,” Yifan whispered in his ear, “I got you.”

Jongdae came with a sob, burying his face in Yifan’s chest. He waited for the panic to come.

But Yifan was rubbing his back, murmuring, “That’s it,” and Jongdae couldn’t bring himself to feel afraid. He didn’t think he’d ever been this relaxed, so convinced that he was safe. He snuggled in closer, and that was when he realized that Yifan was still hard. His stomach clenched.

“Sorry. I didn’t know,” he said quietly, “I can-” He leaned back and reached his hands down towards Yifan’s cock, but Yifan took them gently in his before he could get there.

Yifan shook his head. “That’s okay.”

Jongdae believed him.

Jongdae was content to lay against Yifan until he fell asleep, and Yifan seemed content to let him for a time, petting his hair gently and occasionally making a rumbling noise that sounded like a purr.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re not gonna want to sleep like that.”

Jongdae tensed. He didn’t want to leave Yifan, but he wasn’t ready for Yifan to see him naked just yet. He couldn’t help but feel guilty as he said, “Maybe, I could, you know, by myself.”

If Yifan was disappointed he didn’t show it. He helped Jongdae off of his lap and to stand on wobbly legs. Jongdae waited for a moment, and Yifan gave him a knowing smile, seemingly a reassurance that he’d still be there when Jongdae came back.

Jongdae knew that Yifan would want to talk about it eventually, but for now, he let Jongdae slip into the ensuite without another word.

And maybe it was far from perfect, but it was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/some-kind-of-chogiwonderful%22).


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